High
by Midnight Alexis Thorn
Summary: Meet Italy Veneziano. He's happy-go-lucky, silly, sweet, and kind of ditzy. He's also a product of Feliciano Vargas. Meet Feliciano. He's depressed, angry, and just wants it all to end. Oh, yeah, and he does the drugs that make Italy the way he is.
1. Chapter 1

High

Summary: Meet Italy Veneziano. He's happy-go-lucky, silly, sweet, and kind of ditzy. He's also a product of Feliciano Vargas. Meet Feliciano. He's depressed, angry, and just wants it all to end. Oh, yeah, and he does the drugs that make Italy the way he is.

The first, and only, hopefully, to find out about Italy- _Feliciano Vargas' _drug problem was his older brother. Feliciano was _positive _that Romano was going to Spain's. Romano had even booked the ticket, went to the airport, and everything. Apparently, though, the plane had been canceled and Romano wouldn't be able to get another flight until the next day. So, Romano had walked in on Feliciano smoking weed. To be fair, Feliciano was nearly Italy at that point, so his guard was down.

"What the Hell are you doing?" Romano shouted in surprise as Feliciano- nearly Italy- jumped a bit. Feliciano smiled lopsidedly. "Just relaxing. You want some?" He held out the joint to Romano with a small snicker. "Wha- Do I want some? Hell no! Are you insane, Veneziano?!" Romano snapped as he snatched the joint away from Feliciano. Feliciano pouted.

"What the Hell is this, anyway?" Romano frowned before he sniffed at it lightly. His eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Marijuana?! What the fuck are you doing smoking marijuana?!" Romano gaped at his goofily smiling younger brother. "Marijuana sounds so harsh." Feliciano pouted as he complained. "Let's just call it weed." He grinned lightly before reaching out for his joint, only for Romano to snatch it away from him.

Romano looked decidedly anguished. "How long have you been smoking marijuana?" He asked quietly. "Weed." Feliciano corrected, then shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe a year? Or maybe a little less?" He questioned, though more to himself than to Romano. "How could... Why...?" Romano trailed off as tears collected in his eyes.

Feliciano was surprised. _'Well, someone's overreacting.' _He thought to himself, vaguely amused, though a bit guilty for distressing his older brother so much. However, the artificial giddiness began to take overrun every other emotion. "Veneziano..." Romano choked out, eyes watering further at his little brother's nonchalance to this.

_Italy_ blinked, cocking his head slightly to the side. "Yeah, Roma?" He questioned with a large, sweet smile. "Please don't do marijuana anymore." Romano's voice trembled. "Ve~ Please don't be sad! I'm sorry, Roma!" He wailed before he shot himself over to Romano's side to hug him tightly. He let out a few other "ve~" sounds as he embraced his older brother.

Romano embraced his brother tightly as well, giving Italy a little shock. "Veneziano, please promise me you won't do drugs of any kind anymore." Romano whispered. "Ve~ I promise!" _Italy Veneziano_ promised. _Feliciano_, on the other hand, gave no such promise.

And so, Italy, the product of Feliciano's little drug problem, thrived.

* * *

**What. The. Hell. I have no idea where this idea came from. Well, maybe it came a little bit from the song Habits by Tove Lo. I don't doubt that, actually. Okay, so I'm writing on my grandparents' ancient computer, so this is likely to have a few mistakes. Sorry. Anyway, I don't know if I'll continue this or not. I guess that depends on you guys. If you want me to continue it, go ahead and tell me. Review, please. **

**Also, I want you guys to go look at the poll on my profile. Help me with that, pretty please with a cherry on top. On another note, I've started watching The Big Bang Theory and Castle- They're both fudging awesome. **

**Okay, I'm done here. Review, review, review, REVIEW PLEASE! **


	2. Chapter 2

High Chapter 2

Three Years Later

Italy giggled as he clung to Germany's arm. Germany shot him an annoyed look, but didn't try to brush him off, knowing it would either end futile or with Italy crying. They entered the meeting room, ignoring the bickering nations as they took their seat. "Ve~ Ciao, everyone!" Italy chirped cheerfully.

The majority gave a greeting back, all with different levels of enthusiasm. "Alright, everyone, settle down, and we'll start the meeting." Germany said as everyone obeyed, however reluctantly. "Hahaha!" They heard America laugh loudly as he walked into the meeting room with England. "Look, dude, all I'm saying is that you _have _to be smoking something. You're pretty damn weird sometimes." America grinned as he held a small device in his hand. "Come on, all you have to do is breathe into it and it gives an instant result. It tests for twenty drugs, like marijuana, cocaine, heroin, shit like that." He explained.

"Bloody Hell, dammit! No, I don't do drugs." England shrieked angrily as he stomped to his seat. "Does the thing check for opium, aru?" China couldn't help but ask. England sent a dark glare to him as a few of the others snickered lightly. "Haha, yep!" America chirped. Italy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, though no one noticed.

Italy watched as America kept whining how if England wasn't doing drugs, it wasn't a problem if he were to breathe into the drug tester. Italy- not Feliciano- frowned for a moment. Dammit. The drugs were wearing off… He knew he should have smoked some more weed right before he got to the meeting, or at least snorted some crack…

He quickly thought of some happy thoughts that would work well enough with the drugs already in his system. Another smile quickly found its way on his face as he giggled. Romano grumbled next to him about how stupid this all was. Germany simply scowled as he watched how it played out, done playing Mr. Responsible for now.

"God dammit! Fine!" England finally snarled as he snatched the device from America's hands. He breathed into it angrily and thrust it back into America's hands. "Woah." America blinked. "What does it say, Comrade America?" Russia chirped. "Negative." He answered as England's eye twitched. "Is it really that hard to believe I don't do drugs?" England glowered.

America put his hands up in submission. "I'm just joking, dude, chillax." He laughed. "Hey! Let's all take a drug test!" America grinned as Italy stiffened slightly, then relaxed. He ignored Romano's narrowed, searching gaze as he continued to smile and cling on Germany. Eventually, Romano looked away, pleased that Italy didn't look fearful or anything of that sort. "No, America, we don't have time for that." Germany sighed. Ah, good ol' Germany, always saving Italy's ass, whether he knew it or not.

"You're probably just shooting me down because _you're _the one doing drugs!" America accused, pointing an index finger at the other blonde. Germany pinched the bridge of his nose. "America, I do not, nor have I or will I ever, do drugs." Germany sighed. "That's what a man doing drugs would say." America retorted. Germany's eye twitched. "Fine." He growled as he took the device from the offered hand. "Negative." America said when it was handed back to him. "Now… China! You're still doing opium, aren't you?" America accused. China glared at him, then snatched it from him. "Negative." America said.

"Comrade America, what is your sudden obsession with the accusing of us doing the drugs?" Russia asked, cocking his head slightly. "It's not an obsession. I was watching a show last night, and it was about some potheads, and it got me wondering if anyone I know does drugs." America shrugged, then searched for another victim to accuse. His eyes went past Germany, to Italy, who held his breath. Thankfully, the Americans gaze turned to Romano.

"You!" America accused, index finger pointed. Romano scowled. "No." Romano glared at him. "What makes you think I do drugs, anyway? The buying and selling of drugs is a disgraceful business." Romano snapped angrily, cheeks puffed out defiantly as he said one of the old "mafia laws." "Well, South Italy is where most of the mafias are, and mafia dudes are always getting busted for drug deals at my place, so I figured it probably happens at your place to, so-" Romano cut the American off. "What the fuck ever. Give me the damn thing." Romano glared.

"Negative." America said as it was handed back to him. "Next… France! You're hyped up on Ecstasy, aren't you?" He accused. "Always, cher, always." France said as he took the device from the American. "Negative." America said. "Since you're so keen on accusing others, why don't _you_ take the test?" England glared as America shrugged. "Alright."

"Negative." England said as he gave the device back to America. "See? Alright, now… Russia!" The American smirked. Italy began to feel a bit fearful. His eyes flitted to Germany, who merely looked annoyed, but not like he was going to step in. Only Japan and… Canada… were left, besides him. "Negative." The American said as Russia smiled wider in response.

"Germany-san, are you not going to stop him?" Japan asked curiously to the annoyed blonde. Italy stayed quiet, knowing that his brother would hear him if he backed up Japan, and would get suspicious. "No. He'll just end up whining about it for the next few meetings, so might as well just get it out of his system." Germany shrugged.

Goddammit. The drugs were way past just wearing off now. Feliciano was nearly back; the smile he was wearing growing faker and faker, becoming plastic. Feliciano fought the urge to cringe away from his blonde ally. Feliciano hated touch just as much as he craved it.

"Japan!" America grinned. Japan just sighed as he breathed into the device. "Negative." America grinned, happy that none of his friends so far were doing drugs. Feliciano felt the world begin to close on him, suffocating him as his breathing picked up and his palms grew sweaty. Maybe… Maybe America would be satisfied with that. Maybe he would give up on it, and-

"Italy, dude! Then my bro!" America grinned. Feliciano's eyes widened. "Ve~" He forced himself to say. "Do I have to?" Feliciano pouted. "Well… Alright, you don't really seem the type-" America was once again cut off. "No. Don't give him special treatment." Romano said coldly to the American, eyes glued to Feliciano's face.

"V-Ve~ I don't want to." He pouted again. "Come on, Romano, don't be-" America was cut off again. "Take. The. Test. Veneziano." Romano's eyes were narrowed as they fixated on him. Suddenly, breathing became a bit harder for Feliciano, his palms growing even sweatier, with sweat beginning to start on his forehead. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the confused, curious faces of the other nations. He searched for a possible exit. He had to get away, _get away, get away. Now, now, now, NOW! _

He jumped up from his seat, knocking the chair down, effectively startling the nations around him, even Romano. He quickly ran to the door, wasting previous seconds unlocking it with shaking, nervous hands. Those seconds were just enough for Romano to grab him as he opened the door. "NO!" He shouted as Romano managed to wrestle him against the wall, pinning him.

Feliciano struggled vigorously, though it was in vain. Romano was stronger than him. His eyes darted to the open door, _so close, yet so far. _"VENEZIANO!" Romano shouted as Feliciano stilled, reluctantly looking into Romano's face. He was shocked to see tears building up in Romano's light green eyes.

"You promised." Romano said quietly, leaning his head to rest his forehead tiredly against Feliciano's sweaty one. "Please tell me you don't do drugs anymore. You promised." Romano whispered. The other nations murmured behind them, or, at least, that's all the two heard as the noises dulled into quiet hums.

Feliciano smiled sadly. "I didn't promise you anything, Lovino. Italy Veneziano did." With that, Feliciano brought his head back to head-butt Romano. Romano cried out as he jerked back, loosening his grip in his shock and pain. Feliciano took this chance to rip himself out of Romano's grip as he stumbled backwards, holding his pained head. 'I'm sorry.' Feliciano mouthed.

Then, Feliciano Vargas took off and both he and Italy Veneziano promptly seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.

* * *

**I don't even know. Le shrug. I hope you guys like this. Review, please. REVIEW. REVIEW. REVIEW. **


	3. Chapter 3

High Chapter 3

Four And A Half Years Earlier

Feliciano walked through his city of Naples, shoulders slumped slightly as he kept his eyes on the dirty floor. He was so useless… So fucking useless. He was lazy, good-for-nothing, ugly, stupid, annoying, and so much more… He was a fucking wreck, a lunatic. A depressed, worthless, ugly, stupid, good-for-nothing, useless, lazy, weak pathetic piece of shit. Oh, if only he could die. But alas, because of his status of a country, even as a half of one, he couldn't. It was impossible. Even if he were to "die", he'd merely come back to… _life_, the disgusting thing, a few days later.

Feliciano let out a bitter laugh as he walked through an alley. Maybe someone would kill him as he walked through here, and he could be at peace for a couple days. It would be pretty amusing for his own citizens to kill him. Ah, but maybe it would be someone born from another country, who moved here and merely found poverty or psychopathic sadism.

"You don't look so happy." A young male's voice said in Italian nonchalantly as Feliciano paused mid-step. If it were so obvious to this stranger, why not admit it? "I'm not." Feliciano agreed as he turned to the voice. A young male about eighteen to twenty stood, leaning against the alley wall.

"Why's that?" The young man asked. "Reasons." Feliciano shrugged. "What are you doing here in a dark, cold alley? Are you going to mug or kill me?" He asked, not particularly caring. The young man raised an eyebrow, lips quipped up in amusement. "No. I'm not a mugger or murderer." The young man said, sounding amused. "Then what?" Feliciano asked, raising an eyebrow of his own.

"You're not adamn cop, are you?" The man asked. "No." Feliciano humored him. "In that case, I'm a giver of artificial, temporary happiness." The man smirked. Feliciano raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Did he mean…? "Elaborate." Feliciano humored the man again. "Drugs." The young man said simply. "You look like you could use some." The young man added. Feliciano paused, then shook his head. He didn't need an addiction on his hands. He already had enough to deal with.

"No, thanks. I don't need an addiction." Feliciano drawled. "Tell you what," The young man said, "I'll give you something simple, for free. So you can try it and see if you like it. If you don't, I won't bother you again. If you do, I'll become your dealer." The young man said.

Feliciano thought about that for a moment. Well, it would only be one time, and like the kid said, it would be something simple. "Alright." Feliciano seceded before he could talk himself out of it. He had nothing to lose, anyway. It was just a onetime thing. The young man smiled before reaching into a backpack Feliciano didn't notice before.

"Here, since it's your first time, and you're nervous about getting an addiction, I'll secondhand you." The young man smiled. Feliciano blinked as the man brought out something that looked similar to a cigarette. "Secondhand me?" Feliciano asked. "I'll inhale it, then blow it into your face, and you'll inhale it. That's secondhand. It's easier for you in the long run." The young man shrugged. "Alright." Feliciano muttered quietly. "Don't sweat it." The young man smiled as he pat him on the shoulder, then lit up the cigarette-type thing.

"What is it?" Feliciano found himself asking. "Weed." The young man answered. Feliciano's eyes widened for a moment. "Marijuana?" He asked incredulously. "Marijuana sounds so harsh. Let's call it weed." The young man grinned, then took a drag.

…

Feliciano- not yet Italy- giggled as the other high man's lips brushed his as he blew the drug into Feliciano's system. The young man chuckled as well, taking another drag. This time, he pushed his lips onto Feliciano's with a slight grin. His tongue urged Feliciano's lips open as he blew the drug into Feliciano's mouth. By the time the weed was a mere stub, many kisses and gropes were stolen.

"You got a house?" The young man, who after many giggled words Feliciano learned was twenty and whose name was Adriano, asked huskily. "Yes." Feliciano smirked with another giggle as he led Adriano toward where his house was a block away.

Italy Veneziano fucked his drug dealer that night. Feliciano couldn't find it in himself to regret it, it wasn't like he was a virgin before that. And after all, he found himself happier than he'd been in a very long time with that high. And so, Feliciano no longer had to pretend to be Italy Veneziano. All he had to do was do some drugs, and ta da, there was Italy Veneziano. None of the other nations had to bother him about looking down or whatever.

It started out simple, with just marijuana. Then it escalated to crack, cocaine, crystal meth, heroin, etcetera, etcetera. At one point, he and his dealer had even taken… ecstasy together. It was a win-win situation for both, so it was fine. The sex was good, if the mess the next day was any indication, and Italy Veneziano was truly happy, and the dealer was getting enough money.

Once, the two had gotten into a fight over something. Neither remember what it was about, but eventually, Feliciano ran out of drugs from his personal stack. He'd gone through withdrawal. Oh, God, it was horrible. Throwing up, hot flashes, cold flashes, and so much more. It was a good thing Adriano had shown up and wanted to put it past them. After Italy was finally back and happy, they'd had great make-up sex.

Everything was great.

Really.

It was great.

He'd never felt better…

Honestly.

* * *

**MY POOR BABY. WHY DO I ALWAYS DO THE WORST THINGS TO MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS? I'm a terrible person. Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows, guys! I love you guys! REVIEW, PLEASE. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW. I NEEDS IT! I go through my own withdrawal without reviews... It's painful. **


	4. Chapter 4

High Chapter 4

"That… He's… HE PROMISED ME!" Romano roared angrily as he punched the wall nearest to him. Romano bit his lip to muffle the sound of pain that erupted from his throat. He had ran through the whole building trying to find his little brother, coming up blank. He'd ran outside, only to find his brother nowhere in sight, though his phone lay just outside of the door, ensuring no one would be able to track him. Feliciano was smarter than Veneziano.

"Romano, dude, what's going on? Why'd the little guy run off like that?" America asked with a frown. The other nations murmured in agreement. "Why _did_ Italy-san run off like that?" Japan asked, though he had a sinking feeling as to why. Germany stayed quiet as he absorbed what had just happened.

Romano surprised them with a bitter laugh. "Isn't it obvious?" He asked, a bitter smile playing on his lips. The nations stayed mute out of surprise and worry. They'd hardly ever seen Romano smile before, and this was much too bitter for their tastes. "Is… Italy… doing drugs?" England asked slowly, almost scared of the answer he would receive.

"No. Veneziano isn't doing drugs." Romano answered as the nations sighed in relief. "Apparently, Feliciano Vargas is." The relief was instantly revoked, replaced by further worry and more than a little confusion. "What… do you mean by that?" France asked. "Apparently, there's a difference between Feliciano and Veneziano. See, Veneziano promised me three years ago that he wouldn't do drugs anymore after I caught him, or, rather, Feliciano, smoking marijuana. Feliciano didn't promise, though. Veneziano did." Romano no longer wore the bitter smile, only a dark frown as his eyes watered.

"… You must be doing the joking." Russia said with a strained smile. Romano whipped his head over to him to glare. "No! I'm not fucking joking! Do you think I would joke about this?" Romano glared as the other nations' eyes widened. No one, least of all one of the Italy brothers, ever really dared raise their voice and yell at Russia.

"I still don't get it." America said, frowning. "I barely get it, so I won't be any help." Romano scowled. "… There is a difference between Italy Veneziano and Feliciano Vargas, just as there is a difference between Russia and Ivan Braginsky, Japan and Kiku Honda, America and Alfred F. Jones, Italy Romano and Lovino Vargas, and so on and so forth. Our nation selves and our human selves differ, even if not directly and we don't realize it." China said quietly as the nations soaked that in for a moment.

"… Romano, what do you think Italy … Feliciano is doing now?" Germany asked solemnly, speaking up for the first time. "… He's probably on his way to the hotel room. He probably has some drugs stashed somewhere. Once he gets high, he'll probably disappear. I need to get there first." Romano set his jaw before he ran to his Ferrari.

The engine purred for a moment before screeching as Romano tore off. "I'm going as well." Japan said as he ran briskly to his car. The others quickly ran to their own cars with murmurs of agreement.

And thus began the pursuit for Feliciano Vargas.

…

Feliciano panted lightly as he slowed slightly as he saw his hotel in sight. Romano was by no means stupid, and would likely be there soon. With that realization, he sped up his speed again. "Hello, sir." A doorman greeted as Feliciano ignored him. Feliciano's fingers danced and played a symphony on his leg as he approached the elevator. It opened with a ping. Too crowded. Too many people, too many people.

Feliciano quickly steered himself over to the stairs and began running up them, his fingers still playing an unheard symphony and his teeth gnawing on his inner cheek. He panted lightly as he reached the fourth floor, opening the door and heading to his room swiftly. He searched his pockets for his keys, only to pale.

No. No, no, no, _no, no, NO! _Feliciano snarled angrily as he slammed his fist on the door. He was _such _a fucking _idiot. _Go fucking figure his, or Italy's, at that moment in time, worthless ass would put the hotel key in his brief case. Which was at the meeting room. Now, he had to run downstairs and go to the front desk and ask for another key. Great. Just a-fucking-mazing.

…

Romano parked the car haphazardly in front of the hotel, then noticed that he had been followed. He couldn't find it in himself to really care. "What room?" Germany asked, jaw set. He needed answers, just as the rest of them did. "417." Romano answered as they hustled in the hotel. They looked around quickly just in case he was near. "Look!" America suddenly blurted out as he pointed to the stairs.

Feliciano's head whipped back as he heard the loud blonde. In one of his hands laid a key card. The nations were shell shocked at the horror, anger, sadness, and fear in his expression. Romano, once again, was the first to act as he darted towards him, dodging and weaving through people. Feliciano had already began scaling the stairs, sprinting in hopes to make it to the hotel room at least, then lock the door and figure out how to get out of there.

"Veneziano! Stop!" Romano shouted as the other nations tried to follow as swiftly as they could. "FELICIANO!" Romano suddenly roared as many heads turned. Feliciano stumbled slightly, but situated himself quickly as he made it to the fourth floor.

400. 401. 402… 415. 416. 417.

Feliciano's hands stumbled awkwardly as he tried to open the hotel door. "You have to be fucking kidding me!" He screeched as the key was denied. Romano finally reached the fourth floor and sprinted toward his younger brother. Finally, fucking _finally, _the key was accepted and Feliciano opened the door, then went to slam it shut-

Only for Romano's foot to interfere. Romano barreled his shoulder into the door as Feliciano stumbled back. Feliciano tried to dart past him, but Romano grabbed him quickly. "No! Let go!" Feliciano snarled angrily as he tried to get his brother off of him. The other nations finally reached the room, most panting as they watched the scene numbly.

Romano had his brother locked in a fierce embrace as Feliciano struggled to dislodge Romano from his person. The longer Romano had him stuck, the more furious Feliciano got. "Let me the fuck go! Now! LET. ME. GO!" Feliciano screamed angrily, panicking as more time went on. He need to leave. He had to get away, get away, _get the fuck away_!

Suddenly, Feliciano stopped looking so furious and his expression crumbled as he simply looked broken down. "Let me go. Let me go." Feliciano trembled in his brother's hold. "It's going to be alright." Romano murmured as he kissed the top of his brother's head. "No, it won't!" Feliciano sobbed, emotions all over the place. Feliciano sobbed in his brother's shoulder as Romano slowly brought them down to the floor.

"I'm going to help you, okay?" Romano asked softly. "I don't… I don't want help. I just want to be happy." Feliciano wept. "That's not happiness, Feli. It's artificial, and it's unhealthy." Romano bit his lip, eyes wet. "Who cares if it's unhealthy? We can't really die, anyway. Already tried." Feliciano wept.

"Feliciano… You need help. I want to help you. You won't take drugs anymore, Feli. That's over. Permanently this time." Romano muttered as Feliciano's sobbing only grew louder. "No! Please, I need it! I can't… I can't live without them! Please, fratello, please! If you love me, please don't take them away!" Feliciano wailed as Romano grimaced. The other nations' hearts went out to the two. "I'm sorry, Feli… But it's because I love you that this won't go on anymore."

As if Romano had flipped a switch, furious Feliciano replaced the sobbing one. "No!" He shrieked as he flailed again, trying to dislodge his brother and get away. Romano held strong as Feliciano cursed more and began to hyperventilate.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, _no, NO, NO, NO!" _Feliciano chanted furiously. "You can't do this!" Feliciano shouted. "I can and I will." Romano tightened his grip. "It's my life!" Feliciano protested as his hyperventilating worsened, his chest rising and falling much too rapidly as he took in quick, painful breaths. "I know. Which is why I'm helping it." Romano said before he pinched a nerve in Feliciano's neck that caused him to slump forward, flailing stopping and his breathing slowly returning to normal.

Romano bit his lip as he picked his brother up bridal-style. "He's too light." They heard him mutter as he laid his unconscious brother on his bed. Feliciano's limbs flopped uselessly as Romano tucked him in. Despite Romano's eyes being red-rimmed and moist, he looked strong and determined.

"I won't let you do this to yourself anymore, Feli. This stops here and today. I'll give you all the help you need and then some, even if you hate me for it."

* * *

**Once again, I have to ask myself; Why are I so cruel to my favorite characters?! I'M SUCH A SHITHEAD! Them feels, doe. Romano is such a good big bro, even if Feli doesn't think so. What's gonna happen, now? (Not even I know, xD) I didn't check it or anything, having done it last night, or, rather, earlier this morning. (I pulled an all-nighter.) AH, AND I STILL HAVE TO DO MY AP WORLD HISTORY PACKET AND READ A BOOK BEFORE SCHOOL TOMORROW! I SUCK! At least I finished my Geometry packet, though. **

**Please review! I really appreciate them. Oh! And I came out with a story yesterday called "The King and Dukes of Awesome." You guys should read it. I'm proud of it~! ANYWAY, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

High Chapter 5

Feliciano's eyelids fluttered as he took in the tan ceiling above him. He groggily racked his brain for how he got back to the hotel room. Did the meeting end without him realizing it? Had he gone straight to the hotel? What- Oh. Oh. OH, SHIT.

Feliciano's heart stopped in his chest. He was such a fucking idiot! What the fuck was wrong with him?! He knew Romano would check the hotel room first, so why would he go there?! He could have gone a little bit without being high! ... Couldn't he have? ... He could've, right? ... Yeah. He can stop any time he wants. He just doesn't want to.

Yeah.

Feliciano bit his lip as he looked around. No one was here at the moment, not to say there might not be someone in the bathroom, another of the rooms in the suite, or outside the door. He bit his lip harder, drawing blood as he sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He slowly tip-toed to the front door and put his ear on it, listening for anyone outside.

"I can't believe this, man." He heard America's muffled voice say. "Da. I agree. It is quite unbelievable. The north Italian of all nations? I wonder why he has turned to the drugs." Russia mused. "I don't know, man. Maybe one day we can ask him." America thought aloud. "Perhaps." Russia agreed. "Do you think it's because he's depressed or something like that?" America asked. Feliciano bit his lip harder as he forced himself away from the door.

So much for America being an oblivious idiot.

Feliciano's fingers danced along his thigh again as he ignored the metallic taste in his mouth. His eyes darted around the room for an escape. His eyes locked on the balcony. He quickly walked over to it and quietly opened the door and stepped outside. He glanced down at the ground and growled irately. It was too far. If he jumped off, he'd just end up breaking something and not being able to escape.

His eyes closed in thought before he remembered- There was an air vent in the side of the wall, just a bit higher than his head. His eyes hardened with determination as he quickly made his way to the vent. He pulled a small chest below it and stood on top of it. He cursed quietly when he realized that he would need to find a screwdriver or something and unbolt it from the wall. Just as well, he supposed. He almost forgot to bring his drugs with him. His ears suddenly picked up voices from another room-

That were getting louder much too quickly.

He panicked and fell off of the small chest, landing on his stomach. He wheezed quietly as he felt the breath be knocked out of him. He stumbled up, holding himself in pain. He quickly ran across the room, ignoring the pain as he jumped into the bed, pulling the covers over himself and closing his eyes, as well as schooling his expression and trying to keep his breathing even.

"I don't understand... Mon petit seemed so... happy." France sounded deflated as he murmured this. "I guess... Sometimes I saw that look in his eyes, though... Like it wasn't genuine, like he was forcing himself to." England sighed. "Is... the violent and emotionally unstable Feliciano we saw a little bit ago the real him?" France asked, sounding tearful. "I don't think so... He was pressured, he must have been feeling like he was losing all control, so he freaked out." England hypothesized.

He nearly jumped as he felt a hand brush his hair out of his face. "Poor thing... Mon petit frère... Why?" France sighed. "Why would you of this to yourself?" France asked sadly. "Romano, what are we going to do?" He heard Germany ask worriedly. "I- He wasn't like that when we left him. And his lip is bleeding." Romano said, frown obvious in his tone. Feliciano fought the urge to grit his teeth. Dammit, Romano. Now you decide to be hyper-vigilant?

Feliciano jumped when he felt a finger poke his side quickly. He snapped his eyes open and glared at his older brother. "Fuck. You." Feliciano growled. "Feli..." Germany muttered, voice sounding a bit dry. Feliciano frowned at him. "What?" He snapped as he glared at the tall blonde. "I... You..." Germany stammered, stumbling over his words, considering he wasn't used to this Feliciano.

"Yeah, me. I'm just a big ray of fucking sunshine, aren't I? Woo. Drugs." Feliciano did a mock happy wave of his arms. "You... I didn't... I don't..." Germany choked out, unable to comprehend the situation. "Ve~ I'm sorry, Ger-mah-ny~ Did I startle you?" Feliciano chirped with Italy's signature sweet smile on his face. Germany clenched his fists and bit his lip.

"Feliciano. Don't take this out on anyone." Romano said sternly. Feliciano glared at him angrily. "Why don't you shut up, South." Feliciano growled. "I don't want nor need your 'help'." Feliciano sneered. "There's nothing wrong." Feliciano elaborated firmly. "Really?" Romano asked. "Really." Feliciano stated firmly.

"So if nothing's wrong, you can stop at any time, right? It doesn't even really affect you? You don't care?" Romano asked. "Exactly." Feliciano frowned, feeling wary of where Romano was going. "So... If I were to do... this..." Romano pulled out a ziplock bag of joints and some spare weed from his pocket and tossed it up and down in his hand.

Feliciano's stomach jumped to his throat. Don't drop it, don't drop it, don't drop any! He chanted mentally as he stiffened. "That'd be fine, right? Especially since the bag is closed and there's no actual need to worry." Romano drawled as he stared into his younger brother's eyes. Feliciano immediately realized his mistake. He shouldn't have tensed. It was obvious that the bag was closed and that nothing would fall out as a result.

So... why did he panic?

"Right." Feliciano choked out. "And if I were to... Oh, I don't know..." Romano trailed off as he began walking off. Feliciano sat up and watched as he walked off anxiously. Where was he going? What was he going to do?

"Wh-What the fuck are you doing?" Feliciano asked as he put his legs over the side of the bed as he watched. "Going to the bathroom." Romano answered calmly. Feliciano's eyes widened as he jumped up from his seat and ran towards Romano, who was already at the bathroom door.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!" Feliciano shouted, panicked. This were supposed to last him until tomorrow, when he's supposed to go home. Romano shut the door and locked it calmly. Feliciano pounded his fists on the bathroom door, causing the other nations who weren't already there to come into the room and watch mutely.

"ROMANO!" Feliciano shouted. "Sorry, Romano isn't here at the moment. This is Lovino." Romano- Lovino- answered calmly from behind the door. "Well, Lovino's going to get his fucking ass beat if he does what I think he is!" Feliciano snarled. "Oh? What's what?" Lovino asked calmly. "You know what! DON'T YOU DARE-" Feliciano's yelling was cut off by the sound of the toilet flushing.

Feliciano's eyes widened as he became still and trembled against the door frame, the sound of the toilet flushing ringing in his ears. "Feliciano..." Japan trailed off. "Shut. Up." Feliciano grit his teeth. "Why don't you come out, Lovino?" Feliciano asked through gritted teeth. "I haven't washed my hands yet." Lovino answered through the door calmly. Feliciano's eyes flashed in anger.

"Feli, dude..." America trailed off, much like Japan. No one knew what to say. They all were silent as they listened to the sink turn on, then off after a minute or so. "I'm going to fucking kill you if you just flushed my motherfucking happiness down the toilet." Feliciano hissed through the door. "Feliciano, I'm doing this is for your own good." Lovino sighed from behind the door, not bothering with being cryptic anymore at the moment.

"Why?! Just leave me the fuck alone! It's not of your fucking business what I do, you asshole! Fuck you, Goddammit!" Feliciano snarled angrily as he punched the bathroom door angrily. The majority of the nations flinched at the harsh bang it made and at the dent in it.

"Feliciano, calm down. This is my business, whether you think so or not. You're my baby brother. That alone makes it my business what you're doing to yourself. I'm going to open the door, and you're going to calm down, alright? Because you know what? No matter what you say, or what you do, I'm going to help you. I don't care if you don't want me to, or say you don't need me to, because I'm going to do it anyway. Nothing you say or do is going to stop me from helping you with your problem. Nothing. You know why? Because I care about you. I love you. And I'm going to get you through this, okay? No matter what." Lovino said calmly before he opened the bathroom door.

Feliciano glared at him with watery eyes, defeated. He realized that there was nothing he could do. Lovino was stronger than him, and by the looks of some of the other nations, they wanted to play hero, too. Lovino also had connections. If he were to somehow escape, it was very likely that someone would find him and being him back...

There was only one thing he could do, Feliciano realized as he bit his lip to conceal a smirk, making it look like he was contemplating something, or very troubled, or hiding his anger. That one thing was to fake a "recovery."

"F.. Fuck y... I-I don't want to..." Feliciano hiccuped, as if defeated, before Lovino gave a wry, grim smile and hugged him. Feliciano hugged him back slightly. Whether the tears were real or not was anyone's guess.

He was a good enough actor.

So fake a recovery Feliciano would. Then Veneziano could come back.

And everyone would be happy.

(All except the real Feliciano, of course.)

Ughhhhh, I'm uploading this from my iPad, so if it gets fucked up, blame Apple. I HAVEN'T HAD INTERNET FOR LIKE THREE DAYS. MY DAD JUST FIXED IT LAST NIGHT. I also finished a Circles Are My Favorite Shapes chapter, but that's on my computer, not my iPad. Anyway, back to the story. UGH, I'M SUCH A BISH TO FELI-CHAN! GAH! Feli, why are you going to fake a recovery? Why? So, sooner or later, unless he figures out that he doesn't want to do drugs anymore, he's going to "relapse."

REVIEW PLEASE. I NEEDS THEM. REVIEW!


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